Movie Madness
by vinesse
Summary: Every day, John Egbert walks through the doors of the local downtown cinema, and proceeds to order one ticket for the eight thirty show, and one large popcorn. Karkat knows this for fact, because every day since he started working concessions three months ago, he'd been able to witness the phenomenon.


_birthday fic for sallowsapling!_

_many hugs and kisses because look who's growing up_

* * *

Every night at eight, John Egbert walked through the door of the downtown cinema. Karkat knew this was a fact. Mainly because every night at eight, Karkat was working the concessions counter, and he'd seen Egbert there almost every day since he'd started the job three months ago. Karkat didn't really mind, most of the time the man got his popcorn and left, but other times, he stuck around before the showing.

"So, in conclusion, The Notebook is a sucky piece of garbage, and PS I Love You is ultimately the best romance movie to date."

Karkat rolled his eyes upwards, staring at the ceiling while counting silently. He looked back to John at ten, lips pressed together, eyes narrowed. "First off. No. Second off, hell no. You can't just discredit The Notebook like that. It was a heart-wrenching novel portrayed rather fucking well on the silver screen. It's an accomplishment for the whole romance genre, you ignorant fuck." Karkat managed to restrain a pointed finger. Barely.

John smiled in response, reaching across the counter to scoop popcorn out of the bag Karkat was filling. Karkat debated the pros and cons of dumping it over his head, but decided that once again, he did happen to like having a job, so he settled for what he considered a level five glower. John took no notice of his efforts though, and eventually Karkat gave up, filling the bag with popcorn and shoving it at the other man. "Five sixty-seven. Douchebag."

John slid the money across the counter as he picked up his snack, tossing a few more pieces into his mouth. Karkat hoped he choked on it. "Thanks, Karkat!"

"Yeah yeah, whatever," Karkat muttered, examining his nails. His shirt smelled like butter, and there was popcorn salt all over his fingers and goddamn he hated this place. Just six more months, he told himself, watching his annoying customer walk away. Six more months then Karkat would be off to college where there weren't any annoyingly attractive movie nerds, and no more popcorn bags to fill. He couldn't wait.

* * *

"-So he's a total asswad!" Karkat finished, rubbing his forehead and breathing out a puff of smoke. John nodded beside him, leaning against the wall of the alley behind the theater, eyebrows slowly drawing together.

"Your roommate skipped without paying his half of the rent," he finally responded, voice slowly tilting up in a question, like he wasn't sure if it would set the smaller man off on another tangent.

"Yes!" Karkat jabbed a finger in John's chest with one hand, while the other hand waved his cigarette in the air. He paused to take a long drag, eyes narrowing as he blew smoke rings up into the sky. "Just. What the fuck. Who does that, and leaves a person out two hundred bucks. Shit."

John nodded, tapping his fingers against the rough concrete, frowning still. "Do you have the money?"

"Yeah, I have the money, that's not the problem. The problem is he just fucking _skipped._" Karkat felt his blood pressure rising, and he dropped his cigarette, stomping on it angrily. That goddamn juggalo was _dead. _So fucking _dead._

John watched him, trying not to smile, before reaching out and ruffling his hair. He ignored the affronted squawk he received, instead putting effort into straightening up from the wall. "You'll get him back."

Karkat nodded, trying to brush his hair back into its rightful place, eying the other man. "Yeah. Whatever. Remind me why you followed me out back here again?"

* * *

It was eight thirty, and Karkat was furious. Not his normal, everyday level of general unhappiness, this was much worse, and the cause of it was a tall, willowy girl with upturned eyes, tanned skin, and jet-black hair.

Said female was holding onto the arm of John fucking Egbert, and laughing while Karkat snapped his gum loudly, glaring from behind his wall of glass-encased candies. John hadn't once looked up from his _girlfriend _and it was ticking Karkat off immensely. They had even gone to the other counter, for Christ's sake!

_You know, he's not yours, _the more reasonable part of Karkat's mind tried to argue. It was fiercely beaten and drug off before perishing an untimely death. _Stop being a pansy and get over it,_ the part muttered with its dying breath, and Karkat resolutely ignored it. What did his brain know anyway, really? Though, he thought, he should probably stop talking to himself. It was getting kind of weird. He settled for glaring a hole into John Egbert's back as the man disappeared into the darkened theater with what was, Karkat noticed objectively, a rather fine young lady.

Karkat managed to screw up no less than half of his customer's orders that night, and he figured he very well couldn't be blamed for it.

* * *

John Egbert didn't show his face at the theater for more than a week after what Karkat had taken to calling The Incident, with capitals because the occasion was worthy of them. So, he was understandably surprised when the man walked through the door at eight. Karkat hunkered down, pretending to organize the candy boxes below the counter, watching as the black-haired man rubbed his neck, then approached Karkat's counter.

"Karkat, I can still see you."

"What," Karkat began, straightening up and turning around to hide the red that he felt dot his face, "Makes you think I was hiding from _you_."

"Well, you kind of did dive behind the counter like a dolphin when I came in," John replied, smiling and shoving his hands in his pockets like the nerd he really was. Karkat didn't find it the least bit charming. Not at all.

"I did not!"

"You totally did," John argued, leaning his elbows on the counter. "One large popcorn."

Karkat grumbled as he filled the bag, refusing to look at the growth that had appeared on his previously dork-free counter. "Who was that girl you were with, last week." Karkat tried for casual, he really did, but his voice cracked right on the word 'girl' and he thought he was done with that shit the minute he turned sixteen, honestly.

John smiled, sliding over exact change, wiggling his eyebrows as he took the popcorn. "What, are you jealous of Jade or something?"

Karkat rolled his eyes, slamming the register closed and shoving the receipt at the other man, before he leaned against the counter, smirking. "So what if I am?"

"Then I would have to tell you she's my cousin," John replied, grinning as Karkat's expression flickered back and forth between interest and disbelief. "Later, Karkat!"

As he rubbed his face, Karkat watched John prance off to his movie like the smug bastard he was born as, and contemplated. On one hand, it was _John._ Movie douchebag extraordinaire. Karkat snuck another peek, right before the other man passed through the door.

On the other hand, he had a nice ass.

* * *

"What's this?"

John's grin seemed to grow, and Karkat stared at the movie ticket in his hand with raised eyebrows. "It's a ticket to the movies, Karkat!"

"Dumbass. I know it is, I work here. Why the fuck are you giving it to me?"

"Well, you know. Figure I took Jade to the movies, better take you since you're so jealous. It's for after your shift, too." John was ridiculously pleased with himself, Karkat thought, and that just wasn't acceptable.

"I can't go," he responded flatly, shoving the ticket back across the counter. "I have to study. For finals."

"The hell you do," John argued, passing the ticket back. "Finals are weeks away!"

"I still have to study." Karkat glared at the ticket before turning away completely, straightening the cups by the soda machine.

"Karkat. Just come with me to a movie."

Karkat thought about it, chewing on his thumbnail with his back still turned.

"Karkat?"

"Fine."

* * *

For three months, John Egbert had walked through the doors of Karkat's theater, and proceed to annoy the living shit out of him before the eight-thirty movie.

This time, John Egbert waited until the nine-thirty movie, and held the door for Karkat as they walked into the theater. He bought the popcorn and Karkat's orange soda, and let him pick the seats, and afterwards he walked the three blocks to Karkat's shitty apartment and waited while Karkat fumbled for the key.

Karkat shoved said key in the lock, and finally looked up at his, well, date. "So. Thanks for tonight."

"Anytime," John replied easily, sliding his hands in his back pockets. "It was fun. And I have been hanging around for three months, it was finally nice to have some reaction!"

Karkat paused, door cracked open, and glowered. "Excuse me?"

"Well, I mean, I haven't been coming for the showing half an hour early just because I like previews, Karkat! And I sure as hell haven't wasted time standing at your counter because I like the smell of butter."

He raised an eyebrow slowly, just for effect, and leaned against the door. "So you expect me to believe that you've been doing all that shit for three months so you could get a date." He pointed at the other male, then clarified, head cocked to the side. "A date. With me."

John nodded his agreement, stupid grin on his stupid face, and Karkat sighed. "Well. In that case, you'd better come on inside." He turned to open the door then, and smiled. Because maybe, for three months, between arguing over movies and shooting the shit about nothing in particular, Karkat had begun to think that maybe, one day, he might ask for a date. A date with one John Egbert, that is.


End file.
